Just One Yesterday
by SetFireToTheShadows
Summary: Agent Phil Coulson is on a mission to capture the elusive Hawkeye and a twist of fate (or a pothole) causes him to stumble his way through a meeting with kind, sweet-talking Clint Barton, who takes an interest in this shy, adorable man and will set them on a course that neither of them expected.


_A/N: Whoop sorry for it being coded before. Anyway have this, I wrote it a few years ago but never transferred it over from Ao3_

_You know time crawls while you're waiting for the song to start_

_so dance alone to the beat of your heart_

Phil Coulson was stressed. Only those who knew him would be able to tell, most seeing the same blank face they saw every other day. However, the minute twitch of his fingers towards where his gun was tucked into his side and the tightness around his eyes gave him away to those who knew what to look for.

The reason for his current stress was simple: Hawkeye. Actually no, that was far from simple, but it should have been. One plain old mercenary; locate, capture, bring in. Except this particular mercenary was apparently so good they didn't even have a photo to go off. The only thing the truly knew for sure was that he was the greatest marksman Shield had ever seen.

Phil had been on the case for close to seven months now, absolutely trashing his maximum two month capture mission record. He'd chased Hawkeye up and down the globe and every time he thought he had Hawkeye under his thumb ready to capture, this mission always went completely wrong. As a result it felt like he hadn't been able to close his eyes for more than two hours in months.

So yes, he was stressed.

Right now, he was on a bus somewhere in the United States heading to the place where Hawkeye was allegedly spotted yesterday. The bus wasn't overly crowded, most of the seats were filled and only he and a younger woman were left to stand. The bus was mostly filled with people in business suits like him, but there were a couple that weren't. In particular was the blonde haired man closest to him who was stretched back in the seat, legs spread obscenely in a pair of worn jeans and arms to die for.

Not that Phil noticed that sort of thing.

One of Phil's hands was braced on the pole beside him to stop him from being thrown around by the rough road they were on. The other rubbed tiredly at his eyes, he really needed to sleep. He had plans to check the scene, if there was anything particularly crucial he'd follow the lead but otherwise he was going back to the hotel he'd booked and crashing.

At that moment the bus hit a pothole and he could hear Fury's mocking laughter in his head as his hand slipped off the pole and he was sent crashing to the floor. He stayed where he was, dazed momentarily.

"Well if you wanted to get on your knees for me, all you had to do was ask," said an amused voice from above him.

Phil blinked and looked up, immediately flushing scarlet. He'd been flung sidewards in his fall and had managed to land on his knees, directly between the legs of the attractive man he'd noticed earlier. To make matters worse his hands had landed on the man's upper (firm) thighs.

Phil scrambled to his feet. "I am so sorry. I-" He was cut off as the bus hit another bump and Phil lost his footing again. This time he had managed to land squarely in the other man's lap.

"Well now you're just taking advantage of me." The man teased. He had one of his muscular arms wrapped tight around Phil's waist to stop him from falling to the floor.

"Oh god," Phil moaned pitifully, burying his face in his hands. "Can we just pretend this never happened?"

"We could," he said casually, "but I think it'd be a shame to forget someone this cute."

Phil's head jerked up and he was met with piercing blue eyes two inches from his own. Right. He was still on the man's lap. Phil tried to wriggle off (where had his grace gone?) but the arm around him tightened, holding him in place.

"I'm Clint, by the way. In case you were wondering the name of the man you're quite literally throwing yourself at."

His blush deepened, if that were possible. "Phil Coulson. You seem to be doing a pretty good job at catching me." Oh no, was that flirting? Was he actually flirting with this man? Would this man –Clint- even be interested in him flirting?

Clint hummed thoughtfully. "Of course, now that I've got you I might not want to let you go." He squeezed the arm around Phil to emphasis his point. "I might just have to take you home with me."

Oh. Okay.

That answered that question.

Phil swallowed. Of course, there were a hundred different ways he could escape from the arm around him if he really wanted to. But the problem was he wasn't sure he wanted to let go of. It had been a long while since he had been on the receiving end of this sort of attention and of course he would be propositioned on a bus of all places.

The bus jerked to a halt and brought Phil back to reality. He was on a bus, surrounded by people, on his way to track down the elusive Hawkeye. Clint's other hand landed on his cloth covered thigh and begun to run his fingers in circles.

Phil shivered at the attention, mind warring. "What are you doing tonight?" Was out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

Clint lifted an eyebrow, surprised but not displeased. "Nothing I can't cancel." Was his reply.

Phil swallowed, was he really going to do this? Yes, yes he was. "I'm free after 7."

It was about 1 o'clock now, so that left him enough time to check out the scene and get a few hours of much needed sleep.

Clint grinned suddenly and Phil nearly swooned. "Well in that case Phil, how about I meet you at the Italian place of the corner of 3rd street?"

"It sounds wonderful." Phil hadn't felt this shy since he was a teenager.

The bus halted again at the side of the road and Clint sighed and patted his leg. "As much as I'd rather stay here with you gorgeous, this is my stop."

Clint looked expectantly at Phil who stared back blankly for a moment before remembering he was still sitting on the man's lap. Surrounded by a bus full of people. How embarrassing. He scrambled off Clint's lap with little grace and really, Phil didn't think he'd stopped blushing since he'd first fallen over.

Clint stood up with all the grace Phil was lacking and walked towards the front of the bus, stopping long enough to wink and call over his shoulder, "See you tonight!" before sauntering down the steps and away.

Phil sat down heavily in the seat Clint had just vacated and forced himself not to grin like a teenager who'd just gotten their first date. It took him five minutes to realise he had missed his stop. It took him five seconds to realise he didn't even care.

* * *

At five minutes past seven, Phil was inwardly cursing at himself from the inside of the taxi cab. The restaurant he was headed to was only ten minutes from the hotel he was staying at so when he had got back from the scene of the latest Hawkeye spotting with –surprise surprise- no new evidence at around three, he had figured he could sleep until six. Of course, he had slept through his alarm, woken up at 6:45 and had changed and been out the door in record time, but still not fast enough to avoid being late.

Really, Phil should probably take it as a sign of how well his dating attempts usually went and bail out now before it was too late. However, just thinking of those amused blue eyes focusing themselves on him, of the warm muscular arm around his waist… Well, it was safe to assume there was no way Phil could feasibly not want a repeat of that.

At seven minutes past seven, the taxi pulled up alongside the restaurant and Phil all but threw money at the driver before scrambling out. There was no one standing at the door, so it was possible Clint had already gone inside to save a table, or was late himself. Maybe, he had figured Phil wasn't coming and left. What if-

"There you are, gorgeous." Drawled a familiar voice as Clint stepped out of the shadows of the building. "Was beginning to think you weren't coming."

It took all of Phil's training not to flinch at his sudden appearance. "I- I'm sorry. I swear I'm usually on time, I just slept through my alarm, and I couldn't find my tie and I really wanted to get here early." He rambled.

Clint approached smoothly, lightly placing his hands on Phil's waist and shushing him gently. "It's all right. I was just teasing."

Phil's cheeks felt like they were burning from the moment he felt Clint's hands. He wondered if this would happen every time. Taking a deep breath, he allowed himself to finally look at Clint properly. He was wearing a black, finely cut suit that clung in all the right places, with a purple shirt and no tie.

"You look amazing." Phil breathed out.

Clint smile turned small and pleased. "Thank you sweetheart, you look stunning as well. Do you want to head in?"

Phil ducked his head, he never thought he'd enjoy being called 'sweetheart', and previously he would have thought it was too feminine for someone like him. But somehow, it only made his heart jump in his chest when it fell from Clint's lips. "Sure, I've kept you waiting long enough."

"OK, let's go." One of Clint's hands fell from his waist so he could turn towards the door to the restaurant, but the other simply slid to the small of his back and gently led him inside.

The restaurant was nice; quaint with a comfortable atmosphere and low lighting. Phil had a brief moment to panic about whether reservations were necessary but Clint was already speaking smoothly to a waiter and in moments they had been led to a table in the corner.

Clint pulled out a chair for Phil and he took it graciously, even when he couldn't help but ask, "You know, I'm not actually a woman right?" before wincing, because wow way to be impolite.

Clint took his own seat; thankfully his eyes were twinkling in amusement. "I did notice that, thanks for asking. Any particular reason you believe I might think otherwise?"

Phil flushed. "Just… 'sweetheart'? Pulling out my chair? It seems a little…" He wasn't sure how to finish.

Clint took pity on him and asked. "The same things I might be expected to do when on a date with a woman, rather than a man?"

"Yes." Phil said relieved he was being understood.

Clint shrugged, "maybe they are, but I'm not really one to conform to society's expectations on what is considered okay and not okay to do just because of gender." He looked concerned for a moment. "But I can stop if it bothers you."

Phil was speechless. "No-No it doesn't um… I kinda like it." He eventually stuttered out. Who would have thought. The scarily efficient, competent and high level agent he was, stuttering due to a date.

Clint brightened immediately and Phil was once again drawn to the depths of colour in his eyes, the shape of his jaw, the fullness of his lips. What was someone who looked like that even giving the time of day to someone like Phil?

A waitress chose that moment to arrive to take their orders and break Phil out of his head. They promptly gave her their orders before she vanished to the other side of the restaurant again.

Clint, who was clearly not privy to Phil's pitiful self-esteem, just sighed contently. "You really are unbelievably gorgeous."

Phil gaped at him for a moment. "Me? Gorgeous? I'm not… I mean you are, but…"

"Are you telling me you honestly don't see how you look?" Clint frowned.

"Of course I see how I look." Phil said, feeling oddly defensive. "A plain, boring man pushing forty with a receding hairline and body far different from when I was ranger." God he was stupid, could he make himself seem any less appealing?

"Phil," Clint said gently, reaching over to take his hand. "Do you know what I see when I look at you?" When Phil bit his lip and shook his head, he continued. "I see a man with the most gorgeous blue eyes I have ever seen, the softest looking hair, the sweetest face when you blush. I see someone strong but shy who I would never call any variation of the word 'plain'."

Phil felt like he couldn't breathe. He barely knew this man and it already felt like Clint's words were crawling under a skin to make a home for themselves. No one had ever said anything as so kind while looking so god damn sincere to him. "Fuck." He whispered as he felt a tell-tale prick in his eyes. He was a calm composed Agent of SHEILD and he wasn't going to cry. He wasn't.

Clint thankfully didn't bother asking if he was all right when Phil tried to rub surreptitiously at his eyes. He just continued to rub soothing circles on the back of Phil's hand with his thumb. By the time Phil had managed to get himself under control, the waitress was returning with their food.

"Sorry." Phil said quietly, poking at his pasta dish.

Clint waved off his apology. "You don't get told that very often do you?"

"Try never." Phil scoffed. "And now my stupid emotions have ruined our date."

"Hey!" Clint objected. "I wouldn't class this date as ruined just yet." His smile was small and almost shy. "I was very much looking forward to learning what type of person you are."

"What kind of person do you think I am?"

Clint hummed thoughtfully, "I'm not sure yet, but I have a feeling it will surprise me no matter what."

Feeling pleased at that for but unsure as of why Phil asked, "Well, what kind of person are you?"

"Me? I'm an amazing person." Clint bragged jokingly, "but other than that, I'm going to need more specifics on what you'd like to know."

Phil chuckled, before considering. "Do you like living in this city?"

Clint blinked in surprise. "Oh I don't live here. I'm just here for work; I actually have an apartment back in New York. What about you?"

Phil felt a rush of relief, while the current city they were in wasn't totally unknown, it'd be a lot of trouble for Phil to keep coming back here when it was so far from the Hub. "I'm actually here on work too, and by funny coincidence, also happen to live in New York."

Clint leant forward, clearly interested. "Really? That's great! How long until you finish up… whatever it is you're doing and head back to New York?"

"I'm a government agent," Phil informed him, sensing he was fishing for an occupation. "And not for another day or two I don't think. What about you? What brings you away from home?"

"Oh, I'll head back tomorrow I think. I finished my job yesterday so there's no need for me to still be here." Phil looked confused so he elaborated. "I'm a… bounty hunter of sorts."

Phil blinked. Well that was… unexpected. "So you travel around a lot then?"

"I'm afraid so, more than I'd like. But ah…" Clint ducked his head, looking nervous, "I'd still like to try… with you, I mean. I don't know why, but I feel like this could be something worth hanging on to... If you want to, that is. Um…" Clint shoved a forkful of food into his mouth in a clear attempt to stop talking.

Phil found himself feeling inexplicitly charmed. "I can't promise that my schedule won't be just as erratic, if not worse, as yours but… I'd like that."

"Yeah?" He said after swallowing his food, a grin blooming on his face.

"Yeah." Phil confirmed, feeling like a teenager again.

They finished their meals in what was mostly comfortable silence interspersed with snippets of conversations. During which Phil learnt that Clint had an affinity for the colour purple, which had unfortunately equalled to a ridiculous amount of purple furniture in his apartment, he loved to read non-fictions books and they had a shared hatred of shellfish. Phil also admitted that his own apartment was mostly bland shades of white and grey and he loved to read trashy romance novels and go to flea markets when he had spare time.

Over a shared slice of cheesecake Clint snorted and said. "This is not what I expected to be doing on this trip."

The corner of Phil's eyes crinkled as he laughed. "I agree with you there, I thought it'd be more of the same. Meaning trying not to pull my hair out over a stupid case I'm working on."

Clint looked intrigued. "What sort of case?"

"Just looking for someone." He said vaguely. "Not really the thing I'm supposed to talk about with civilians."

Clint faked a putout sigh. "I suppose I should just be glad you managed to fall over on the bus. Twice. I thought government agents were meant to be all graceful and shit. Although, I'm certainly not protesting anything that gets you into my lap." He winked.

Phil flushed. "Can we just never speak of that again?"

"Not a chance, gorgeous."

Eventually, their spoons scraped the plate clean and they signalled for the bill. Phil opened his mouth to protest when Clint pulled out his wallet but he didn't get the chance.

"Don't even think about it." Clint said with a grin. "This one's on me, you can pay next time."

Phil tried to stop the internal cheering at the confirmation of a second date to no avail. "I guess I can live with that." He said, biting his lip to avoid smiling too hard.

Outside the restaurant Clint ran his hand gently down Phil's face. "I had a really good time tonight sweetheart. Although," he chuckled, "I'm against being a romance movie cliché by forgetting to get your number. I'm not really up for running dramatically after your cab in the pouring rain."

It really said something about how utterly enthralled he'd been by Clint that Phil hadn't realised it before. "Good thing you remembered. Pining isn't a good look on me." He said dryly as he pulled out his phone and Clint did the same.

With a laugh and a sweet smile Clint filled in his contact info. "Everything's a good look on you." He countered. Before Phil could even begin to think of a response for that, Clint pulled Phil into his arms, giving him a firm but lingering hug. As he pulled away he brushed a soft kiss onto Phil's cheek before whispering into his ear. "But I bet you'd look even better in nothing at all."

In the next moment Clint was hailing a cab and getting in with a quick shout of "Call me when you're back in New York!" And a cheeky grin while Phil felt helpless to do anything but wave back.

There was something different about Clint Barton. _Maybe,_ Phil thought, _after all this time, I've found the one that fits._


End file.
